Shed A Crystal Shell
by locket dust
Summary: A short story about Namine watching Sora while she restored his memories.


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She sat in the White Room, the sculptured capsule glowing before her. Inside it held a sleeping boy, who was floating in serenity. Bubbles cascaded around him, gently swimming through his spiky chestnut hair. His eyes were sewn closed with a magical spell; it was not yet time for him to awaken. The entire account of his life was slowly being restored, his memories glittering in the hands of a girl he had just promised to see again one day. It was a promise she held tightly, as if it were the only thing she owned in her life. 

She walked balletic around his gleaming casket, encrusting his treasured thoughts back into his mind. And then she sat upon a small chair, and picked up a book of sketches. Her frail hands moved gracefully over the page, spilling colors everywhere. Within moments, her sharp pastels had become rounded and the scenery before her was captured in her portfolio. Admiring her artwork, she rose her eyes back to the boy. The blue globes starred longingly at his drifting body, but they didn't feel enough to cry.

Sighing, she set her pencils and notebook down and once again shifted her position. She stood by the curtained window and watched the sun set. Around her room there were few charms. She only had a table, a shelf of books she had read ages ago, sketches hung across the walls, and a pot of glass flowers. She was sure they would shatter apart one day, and she would have to sweep away the translucent petals. It would be more work for her, and it would keep on stealing pieces of her hope. She wanted so much more than this life.

The sun was sleeping far away, and now the moon was bright in the dotted sky. She turned back to his frozen sanctuary, the pallid light washing over his sound asleep face. Smiling, she sat back in her chair and gazed at him in all his glory. This was the keyblade master, the one who had saved everyone from darkness. He was not yet aware that a second adventure was waiting for him, but she knew that he would be successful once more. His face decorated her walls and journals but he did not even know she existed, he had already forgotten her.

If only he knew what would wake while he was sleeping. In her soul a love was burning, her heart harbored a secret that would never be bared. She could only watch him day after day, but never have him. The pain was like a poisoned candy; it sickened her but tasted so sweet, and she could not triumph over it. She folded her hands in her lap, over the chaste dress she always wore. The white threads covered a delicate porcelain body that he would never know of. Feathery sandy hair that he would never run his fingers through. A little voice that would never drip into his ears.

Her thoughts were tearing her apart. She was here to replace his memories, to help him. Not to mourn a love that would never be. She shook her head and tried to focus on her tasks, but once again he flooded her vision and she was swimming in an ocean of his subconsciousness. She imagined the warmth of her love melting his diamond shell, and the water and glass would avalanche upon the shining floor and he would fall to his knees before her. She would sweep the broken snow crust away and help him up, it would be like a dome of heaven that had fallen at her demand.

But no. He continued to sleep, flight of the mind as he was lost in dreams that were all coming back to him. The room was austere but her fairytale was abright. She remained on her chair, spinning wishes that would never come true onto the paper, the colors blending and merging into a masterpiece. It was so vivid she could reach out and touch it, pluck him from the page and make him real again. His sleep-shrouded eyes would pry open and adore her. It was a forgotten song that was playing in a gap between time. A music box that she cradled, the melody haunting her eternally.

She watched her love in agony each day, as she refilled his mind with thoughts that did not include her, and never would. He was unreachable, a chalice that would never quench her thirst. He was made of gold and she was burnished. Soon they came for her, he was fully restored and ready to wake. They dragged her into the realm of darkness, she was powerless against their strong gloved hands. The keyblade wielder began to breathe and she cried out but his ears betrayed him. With one last look a dainty tear glittered down her cheek as she disappeared forever.

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End file.
